Well then
by Semebay
Summary: America is horrible at Hetalia Fantasia, and pulls a Leroy Jenkins.


**Original Publication Date: **June 7, 2010

* * *

"Okay, the rats are guarding the room with the stone in it. Now, we need that stone to get through the temple. Otherwise the doors don't open, and we don't get anything."

"And what are we supposed to gain from the temple?" France asked. He held his blade up to the light of the burning torches, and ran his fingers down its length. England glared at him, half tempted to shove the sword down his throat. "There is nothing of use for me there. In fact, does anyone need something from the temple?" France looked around expectantly, but no one spoke. England had his arms crossed before his chest, his cloak hanging down to his feet; Russia was playing with his scarf with a grin on his face, his sword slung over his shoulder; China was trying to sell something to a passing traveller.

"There's a staff inside that I can make use of," England said. He looked towards America. "And there are some better guns inside for America. Lighter weight, more power, something like that." America hummed to himself as he cleaned his guns. He held them up in the torch light, much like France had done before, and he opened the top of the revolver to look down the barrel. He blew through it, then poked his pinky into the end and wiped away a stray speck of dust.

"Because he really needs more power," China grumbled as the traveller walked away with new merchandise.

"Just listen," England snapped. "Those rats are deadly; even the strongest have been beaten by them, and-"

"How exactly are they strong?" France pressed, tilting his head to the side. He had a small grin on his face, likely because he was thinking of the perverted things he would like to do with the group. "They're _rats, _England."

"_Mutant_ rats," England told him, trying to remember if there was a spell that would castrate someone. If there was, France deserved it. "Now, we have to think of a good plan. The rats have venomous fangs, so we can't get too close. America? That means shoot. So when we go in, I'll cast a spell to blind them. That will give you all time to attack, but be careful. We don't know how long it will take for them to recover their vision. Now, I've heard that before we reach the chamber with the stone, there's another enemy. A stronger enemy than the rats. So we have to concentrate on the rats, and avoid the chamber at all costs. Once the rats are gone, we can all attack the other monster at the same time to-"

"Okay!"

England stopped, and the group turned to look at America. The fighter had stood, a smile on his face as he snapped his revolvers shut.

"Don't interrupt me, you fuckin-"

"Here we go! America! FUCK YEAH!"

Then America was gone.

The group didn't move. England stared at the spot where America had once been, and France stared at the door where America had disappeared through. Russia had started muttering under his breath, while China groaned and searched through his bags for medicine.

"He just-"

"Er-uh-go!" France cut England off, and then the group scrambled to chase after the fighter. "Blind them! Blind!" France shouted when they ran through the door, and England had to fight to open his book for a spell while they ran.

"Just a bloody- _inganta blisto!_" A bright light shot from the book and rats were frozen in place. The animals ran back and forth as they tried to make sense of their surroundings, and Russia began to hack away while France followed suit. China threw something at one of the rats, and it burst into flames. Meanwhile, England was trying to find America.

Of course, finding America wasn't an easy task. Had America listened for once in his life, they would have all attacked in unison. They would have known where everyone was. They wouldn't be attacking randomly, lighting up the darkness with flashes and then letting everything fade to black immediately after. There was no organization, and no way to identify who was fighting where.

_That fucking rat_, England thought, and he didn't mean the flaming mass writhing on the floor before him.

"Totally awesome!" America shouted, and the group looked. America was standing by a doorway, pumping his fists and pointing. There was a pile of dead rats on the ground before him, and he laughed. "I rock at this! You guys should take my advice, and get better!"

"I'll show _you_ better!" England snapped, but he was silenced by a low rumble.

"Oh!" America looked down. "Guess I'm hungry!"

"That _wasn't_ your stomach," France cut in. America looked confused, and Russia began his string of _kols_ where he stood. China stared in horror, and America shrugged.

"My bad?" America offered, obviously not meaning it. He shrugged and knelt down to look through the pile of carcasses before him, humming as he did so. He never noticed the large shadow looming over him, nor did he notice the bright light.

* * *

"Well... Fuck."

America watched as England tried to disentangle himself from China. They had landed in the plains with a bang, guns going off and their life miraculously restored. China was cursing at the money he had lost as a result of America's stupidity, while the rest of the party glared and waited.

"That was fun," America chirped, and he grinned. "Do it again?"

England and France finally found something to agree on: they were going to lynch him.


End file.
